


Dates

by daughter_of_the_rain



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Baby Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughter_of_the_rain/pseuds/daughter_of_the_rain
Summary: The young man laughed again, blue eyes twinkling. Geralt liked his laugh. It was bright and clear, like a bell ringing. “Man of many words, I see. I’m Jaskier. May I buy you a drink in thanks?”“Geralt. And yes, you may.”Geralt didn’t think to check the date until he watched Jaskier perform later that night in a popular bar not far from home. Geralt wasn’t a man of music usually. But when Jaskier started to sing, Geralt felt a tingle begin in his chest and spread throughout his body. His arms broke out in goosebumps. His drink sat forgotten on the counter. At the end of the third song Jaskier played, Geralt looked down at his phone to check the date. June 10th. It felt important.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 21
Kudos: 179





	Dates

**Author's Note:**

> What was meant to be a short musing on anniversaries and important dates that crop up in our lives ended up being a 5,000+ word one-shot, for a modern au of Geraskier.
> 
> Mild CW for mentions of a car crash, and peppering of angsty arguing, but it’s mostly fluffy and soft. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Geralt didn’t see the importance of remembering specific dates when he was young. When he was abandoned by his mother, the orphanage weren’t sure what exact date his birthday fell on - just that it was at some rough point in October. The date that he was brought into the world and they didn’t even know it. 

So dates weren’t important. Not at first.

Then one day a young boy with floppy brown hair and a network of scars on the right side of his face entered the orphanage. Geralt had been leaning heavily against a wall as another boy aimed kicks at him, and Eskel punched the boy and told Geralt he would protect him.

March 3rd became the day that Eskel became his brother.

Seven months later, October 17th, they both adopted Lambert. Lambert had come from an abusive home, and had been terrified and angry when he was first left there. Geralt and Eskel held him as he cried and glanced over Lambert’s head at each other. They made an unspoken decision, and from that day, Lambert became his brother too. 

The year after, Eskel and Lambert surprised him with a little birthday celebration in their orphanage, as much as two boys with nothing to their name could muster. When Geralt had asked why, confused, Eskel and Lambert told him they decided that the day they became all became brothers would be a great day to celebrate Geralt being alive. They might not have been brothers if Geralt hadn’t been here first, hadn’t connected them. Geralt deserved a day.

Geralt was too choked up to speak, and hugged his brothers tight instead.

Almost two months later, an older man came by the orphanage, looking to adopt. He’d stood in the yard, watching everyone play and interact with each other for over two hours. Silent, stoic, with shoulder-length greying hair and hazel eyes so light they almost looked yellow.

When asked who he wanted to adopt, he pointed at Geralt, Eskel and Lambert. So December 1st became the day he and his brothers got adopted. Vesemir took them home and they celebrated their first Christmas as a family. As he grew up, days tended to blur into each other. School, homework, holidays, their extracurricular sports, it all sort of blended together.

Geralt started his job as a martial arts and self-defence instructor, and taught underprivileged homeless youth once a week. Lambert and Eskel went into stunt work, with Eskel specialising in weaponry and Lambert in cars and racing.

It was a bright summer day, blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds, when he met Jaskier.

He was walking in the park when he heard a loud yell and a couple of grunts and moans. Familiar with the sounds of fighting, he ran towards the source. A young man was groaning in pain on the ground, while someone was running away with what looked like a guitar case.

Geralt caught up easily and ripped the case from the robber’s hands. He turned around to retaliate, took one look at Geralt and ran off. Geralt returned to the young man on the pavement, who was gingerly attempting to stand, wincing in pain.

“Here.” He pulled the young man up by the elbow gently. The young man winced a bit as he stood up, and took a couple of deep breaths. He looked up at Geralt with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Thank you, thank you so much, my hero! I am greatly indebted to you.That guitar is worth more than all my belongings put together!”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Why carry it around then?”

The young man laughed. “Bit hard to perform without a guitar!”

“Hmm.”

The young man laughed again, blue eyes twinkling. Geralt liked his laugh. It was bright and clear, like a bell ringing. “Man of many words, I see. I’m Jaskier. May I buy you a drink in thanks?”

“Geralt. And yes, you may.”

Geralt didn’t think to check the date until he watched Jaskier perform later that night in a popular bar not far from home. Geralt wasn’t a man of music usually. But when Jaskier started to sing, Geralt felt a tingle begin in his chest and spread throughout his body. His arms broke out in goosebumps. His drink sat forgotten on the counter. At the end of the third song Jaskier played, Geralt looked down at his phone to check the date. June 10th. It felt important.

Jaskier was a persistent friend. Geralt had never known a person to talk that much, ever. Jaskier occasionally forgot to breathe with how much he talked. It drove Geralt insane at first, never having a moment of peace. But Jaskier’s voice in itself was never grating. If anything, it was beautiful, soothing, uplifting. Eventually Geralt forgot to get annoyed at it. Eventually silence became more foreign a sound than Jaskier’s voice.

Geralt picked up a small pocket diary one day, starting to collect too many dates to just remember them off the top of his head. He bought a nice pen for it too, and kept them both tucked into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. 

When he got too sick of the silence in his one bedroom apartment, he asked Jaskier if he’d want to live together. Jaskier accepted eagerly, and so he and Jaskier became housemates on August 23rd, over a year after becoming friends.

One morning six months later, as they stood in the kitchen making breakfast, Jaskier was having difficulty breathing. Geralt called an ambulance.

Geralt sat in the waiting room of the hospital, knees bouncing, unable to stop fidgeting. He hated waiting like this. He wasn’t great with feelings or words, but Jaskier was his best friend. He would be lost without him now.

Eventually a door opened and his name was called. He looked up, and a doctor with black hair and violet eyes stood there, hands around a clipboard. February 13th was the day Jaskier’s life was saved, and the day he met Yennefer.

Yennefer was fiery, sassy, insanely smart. Their sex was incredible. Their conversations were almost better, lasting well into the night, debating everything under the sun.

He married Yennefer on July 21st, a year and a half later. Jaskier was his best man. Geralt’s brothers were his groomsmen. 

Life with Yennefer was filled with activity, but much less noise than Jaskier. Sure, Jaskier visited when he wasn’t teaching or playing at the local bars, and him and Yenn got on surprisingly well, but Yenn was a lot quieter to live with. She didn’t like music, hated unnecessary noise. It was hard to get used to. It felt unnerving.

She also hated celebrations or anniversaries of any kind, not knowing her real birthdate either. So Geralt began to lose track of dates and their importance. She’d been the only person he told about his penchant for remembering important dates, and she’d merely raised an eyebrow and asked, “why?”

So Geralt never brought them up again. Maybe it was foolish to keep track of them. He tucked away the small pocket diary into the breast pocket of his leather jacket, and didn’t write any more dates down for a while.

Yennefer became more and more volatile. They’d been trying for a baby, and it wasn’t working, and it was wearing thin on them both. Yenn badly wanted a child, and whilst Geralt had agreed, he was scared of bringing a child into their marriage. It didn’t seem like a great idea. They weren’t exactly a healthy, well-functioning couple.

He stayed with Jaskier for a few days, so that both of them could have some time apart. They sat on the couch and played video games, like they used to do when they were housemates. They went to the bar they’d first visited and got completely drunk.

The next morning, Geralt’s head felt packed with sawdust. He was irritable and depressed, as it was the day he had to go back home to Yenn. Jaskier was being weird and quiet too, and it made Geralt’s jaw clench. They got into a horrible argument, the first proper argument they’d ever had. They’d bickered over the years, sure, but no serious disagreements like this one. Geralt wasn’t even sure how it started, just how it ended up.

“Why the fuck are you being so grumpy with me! I’m not the fucking problem here Geralt! You and I both know it’s your mess of a marriage! Why are you even going back there anyway?”

“It’s less of a mess than being here with you!”

Jaskier laughed sardonically. “Get fucked, Geralt, you and her are like a powder keg and a short fuse! You came here to get away from her!”

“Yeah, and what a mistake that was!”

“If it’s such a fucking mistake, then leave, you bastard! Fucking mistake, my arse. It was a mistake inviting you here in the first place.”

“Yeah, well it was a mistake meeting you. Why the fuck I saved your guitar I’ll never know.”

“Get out.”

The hurt in Jaskier’s eyes would stick with Geralt forever. Geralt immediately felt sick, and turned and walked out, sure he would puke if he had to keep seeing the pain there.

Going back to Yenn _was_ easier, for a day. They got on with work during the day, then had great sex, and went to sleep.

Then they started arguing again the next morning. And it was worse than before. Geralt wasn’t sure what to do. Days blurred into one another. He felt stifled, like he couldn’t breathe. They were a mess.

Jaskier was right.

He tried calling Jaskier, and he didn’t answer. He tried again, and Jaskier still didn’t pick up. He decided to leave a message.

“I’m sorry, Jask. I’m so sorry. I should never have... you’re my best friend. There are no mistakes when it comes to you. Except for the horrible shit I said.

You were right. We’re a mess. I can’t do this shit anymore.”

He got a hotel room, wanting some breathing space. He turned his phone off, sick of the noise and the date blaring at him, unable to remember why it was important. Why was important?

He sat on the bed and pulled the small pocket diary out from his leather jacket for the first time in over a year.

October 17th. It was his makeshift birthday. Well. Well, now October 17th was the date he separated from Yenn. He wasn’t sure if he wanted an anniversary for that. _Gods_. A year and 3 months of marriage. Didn’t take long for it to fall apart.

He wasn’t sure what to do with himself over the next day. The quiet, normally his best friend, had become his worst enemy. The peace was bizarre. He went to the bar. Any noise was better than no noise at this point. He was nursing a drink when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned around on the bar stool to see blue eyes staring at him.

“Jaskier-“

“Geralt, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

Jaskier’s smile was sad. “I know. I could see it in your eyes as soon as you said it.”

“I felt like I was gonna puke.”

Jaskier snorted. “That might have been the hangover.

Geralt shook his head. “I wasn’t feeling sick that morning until I said that shit.”

“You’re forgiven. It’s okay. We’ll work through it. Besides, years of friendship and that’s been the only real argument we’ve had.” Jaskier sat down on the stool next to him. “So what’s happening with you and Yenn?”

“No idea. I just had to get out. I’m sick of the endless fighting, it’s exhausting. I don’t want to go back.”

“Then don’t. You’re not good for each other, Geralt.”

“I know. I’m staying at a hotel for now. Just gotta figure out what to do next.”

Jaskier was quiet for a second, staring at Geralt. When he spoke next, his voice was soft. “There’s no need to wonder. Come live with me again.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’re best friends, right?”

Geralt answered without hesitation. “Always.”

Jaskier smiled. “Then yes, I’m sure.”

So Geralt went to live with Jaskier again. It was much easier. He’d missed Jaskier’s constant humming and the radio softly playing in the background. He loved the sound of Jaskier talking to his many plants as he watered them, of their friendly banter. October 20th was the date he officially moved in. It was a good day. They decorated the apartment in Halloween paraphernalia and made deep dish apple pie.

The divorce between him and Yenn, despite the messiness of their relationship, turned out to be fairly amicable. Neither wanted to cheat the other out of exorbitant amounts of money, they both wanted the best for each other.

Geralt was relieved to find out that with time, he and Yenn made much better friends than they ever did husband and wife. It took about six months to finalise everything, but on April 12th they signed the papers for their divorce. It was a relief, for both of them.

Then came one of the most important dates in Geralt’s life. The date he became a father.

He didn’t start out the day expecting to become a father. He went to work as usual. He had to cover extra classes recently because Duny, a fellow teacher at his studio and a long time friend, was on leave. His wife was heavily pregnant, and Geralt was happy to cover for Duny so that he could be there for Pavetta. They’d been great friends over the years. Duny had a similar background to Geralt and his brothers, and they had become good friends, Pavetta and Duny even going on occasional double dates with him and Yenn. They’d asked them both to be godmother and godfather, even with the divorce, knowing they’d work their shit out and put aside their differences.

He received a call just as he was about to start the last class of the evening. Duny had been in a serious car accident as he was driving Pavetta, to hospital. She was having contractions, and a car had come out of nowhere and side-swept them. Duny died on scene. Pavetta had been taken to hospital, still in labour.

Geralt cancelled the class immediately and rushed over. Once he got to the hospital, however, he felt utterly useless. All he could do was sit in the waiting room and fidget again. He texted Jaskier, who immediately rushed over and sat by him. It was easier to breathe with Jaskier beside him. Eventually Yenn came too, and they waited.

Hours passed. Jaskier and Yenn both fell asleep in their chairs. Geralt could only fidget, albeit less so with Jaskier resting on his shoulder.

A door opened. A doctor stepped out with a clipboard, looking significantly less positive than Yenn had done when she’d saved Jaskier’s life. Geralt woke them both up so they could hear the news.

Pavetta had given birth. The child was healthy and well. But Pavetta hadn’t made it afterwards. They had named Geralt and Yennefer next of kin, and wanted them to look after the baby.

Yennefer broke down crying. Jaskier held her and cried with her. Geralt asked about the baby.

“You can hold her if you want. Come meet your daughter.”

Geralt was led to a small hospital room. There, the doctor picked up a tiny baby girl and passed her to Geralt. She was bundled in a little pink blanket, crying. She stopped as soon as she was placed in Geralt’s arms, and stared up at him with pale blue eyes. Geralt felt warmth spread from his chest as he stared down at her. She was so small, so delicate.

“Geralt, meet Cirilla Fiona Elen Rhiannon.”

November 5th was the day Geralt became a father. It became one of his favourite days, despite the tragedy, the darkness of losing two of his friends. As he held the tiny baby in his arms, he knew he would do anything to protect her.

He had a thousand dates for Ciri written down. She got her own pocket diary. The day she first smiled. December 15th, looking up at Geralt in a silly Christmas hat Jaskier had plopped on him. The day she first ate solid foods. April 30th, making pleased noises as Yenn fed her with a spoon. The day she took her first steps. October 15th, waddling towards Geralt in their apartment, Yenn filming, Jaskier quietly cheering behind her.

Nine months later, Geralt woke to the smell of bacon. Ciri was at Yenn’s place for the next two days while Yenn had no work, and Geralt had capitalised on the opportunity by getting someone to cover all his classes so he could have a rest. He owned the company, after all, he could afford to get someone to cover him. Raising a child was tiring work.

He stumbled out into the kitchen, where Jaskier stood in a long, loose shirt and sweatpants, flipping pancakes and frying bacon, humming to himself.

Geralt leaned against the doorway. “What’s all this?”

Jaskier jumped almost a foot into the air. “ _Gods,_ Geralt! Could you not give me a heart attack?”

Geralt chuckled and sat down on one of the stools. “One would think you were being suspicious.”

“I am not being suspicious! It’s a very important day, and I wanted to do something nice!”

Important day. What date was it? Geralt checked his phone.

“June 10th.”

“Yes! It’s the day we met, six years ago! I thought I’d make a nice breakfast for you in commemoration.”

Geralt felt warmed by the gesture. Jaskier set a plate down in front of him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good day, June 10th.”

Geralt smiled as Jaskier sat down on the stool next to him. “One of my favourites.”

Jaskier smiled, blushing a little. “I also like April 7th, when we went to that ridiculous medieval faire and watched Eskel in that jousting tournament. When you threw up from too much mead.”

Geralt snorted at the memory. Eskel in full knight armour had been quite the sight to behold. But also... he hadn’t written that date in his pocket diary. It was a fun day, but why had that meant so much to Jaskier?

“Why else? April 7th, I mean. What made that a favourite day?”

Jaskier’s blush deepened, but he was still smiling. “Some old guy was being a pervert, and you pushed them away from me. Then you drunkenly shouted at the whole gathering that if anyone touched your best friend they’d have to answer to you.” Jaskier’s smile softened. “It was the first day you called me your best friend.”

Jaskier collected dates too? Maybe Jaskier wouldn’t laugh at his pocket diaries. Yenn had laughed at him when she’d told him, and he’d never shown her the books... but Jaskier never laughed at Geralt for things he was serious about. It would be nice to share it with someone who would understand. 

“I have to show you something. Wait here.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, confused. “Okay?”

“Just trust me.” Geralt collected his two pocket diaries and nice pen from the breast pocket of his leather jacket, as it hung over the chair in his room.

When he got back, he sat down beside Jaskier, clutching his books. “I’ve never shown anyone else these before.” Jaskier’s eyes widened, but he nodded for Geralt to go on.

“I collect dates. Always have. Dates used to mean nothing to me. Just numbers and words in some combination. Unimportant. I didn’t even have an official birthday. But then I met people who became important to me. And I wanted to remember all the important dates. So I write them down here.”

His heart was throbbing wildly in his chest. Yenn had mocked him when he’d talked about their importance, and he’d never shown her his pocket books as a result.

But Jaskier didn’t mock him. Jaskier smiled, his eyes watering. “That’s beautiful, Geralt.”

Geralt blushed, but smiled back, relieved. “Here. I want you to have a look. Not near the breakfast though, keep them clean.”

Jaskier nodded. “Why don’t we eat and then we can sit down on the couch after breakfast, look through together?”

Geralt smiled, and placed his diaries on the bench, far away from the food. After breakfast, they sat together on the couch and Geralt talked through the days.

March 3rd. Eskel.

October 17th. Lambert. A year later, his chosen birthday. The day he separated from Yenn and apologised to Jaskier.

December 1st. The day Vesemir adopted them.

June 10th. The day he met Jaskier.

August 23rd. The day they became housemates.

February 13th. The day Jaskier nearly died, but was saved, and the day he met Yenn.

July 21st. The day he married Yenn.

“Why aren’t there any dates for Ciri in here?”

“That’s what the second book is for.”

“Oh, Geralt. You are an old sap.”

“You love it.”

Jaskier blushed. “I do.”

Geralt didn’t know how to reply to that, blushing deeply himself, so he picked up his pen, and added April 7th to his diary. “What other dates should I add?”

Jaskier smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “Ooo! How about the day we went to that theme park...”

By the end of the morning Geralt had added five new dates into his pocket diary. Most of the morning was spent reminiscing over fun memories, and bickering about what constituted an important date. It was one of the best June 10ths he’d ever had. They watched their favourite movies and ate pizza together. Geralt felt his chest tighten as he looked down at Jaskier, asleep on his shoulder. He smiled, and curled his arms around Jaskier, and they fell asleep on the couch.

The next day, he woke up with Jaskier still in his arms on the couch, breathing gently. One of his hands gripped Geralt’s shirt in a loose fist, as if he didn’t want Geralt to move. He looked so content.

June 11th. The day he realised he had feelings for Jaskier. He didn’t write it in his diary, didn’t need to. He couldn’t help but notice it every day after that.

Days passed. Dates passed. Geralt added new memories to his diaries. Ciri said her first proper word. Ciri had her first haircut. Ciri went to day care. Ciri whistled for the first time. Ciri sang for the first time. Jaskier had been proud of teaching her that one, and Geralt had caught it on camera. He liked to watch it sometimes when he couldn’t sleep.

A year later, another June 10th rolled around. Ciri was at Yenn’s again, which was becoming a June 10th tradition. Geralt wasn’t sure how they’d managed it, but somehow Geralt was free again of all other responsibilities on June 10th. He woke this year to knocking on his bedroom door.

“Geraaalllt, wakey wakey eggs and bacey! It’s the best day of the year!” Jaskier sang through the door.

Geralt smiled as he rolled his eyes. “November 5th is the best day of the year.”

There was a pause. “Fair point, Ciri takes precedence. It’s the second best day of the year, which doesn’t sound anywhere near as nice but I’ll allow it, you grump. Now get out here! I have a present!”

Geralt, intrigued by the promise of a present, got out of bed and put some clothes on, and wandered into the kitchen.

Waiting on the counter in front of Jaskier was a thick book. Geralt had never seen it before. It was black, and the pages looked too thick to be a standard book.

“Open it.” Jaskier said quietly from where he leaned his elbows on the counter. Geralt sat in the stool in front of where Jaskier waited, and flipped open the cover.

Inside the cover was the first picture they had ever taken together - a begrudging selfie of Jaskier’s doing, as they played video games one night - and across the top, in individually stickered lettering, _Geralt and Jaskier’s Adventures._

Jaskier had made them a scrapbook. It had every photo they were ever in together, as well as some extras, and every memory was detailed with musings from Jaskier. The day they’d met, and Geralt had saved Jaskier’s guitar. The first day they’d hung out at Jaskier’s apartment. The day Jaskier had met Geralt’s brothers, when they’d all gone to the theme park together. The day at the medieval faire. The day they’d moved in together. Geralt’s bachelor party. Geralt’s wedding. The day they’d moved back in. Ciri’s first day in their apartment. All the memories stuck in the book, with beautiful little writings about every memory together. Seven years worth of memories together.

“I started this after last year’s anniversary. Worked on it in my room. I wanted to surprise you.”

Geralt could feel tears prickling his eyes, and felt choked up with emotion. He cleared his throat. “It’s wonderful.”

“Turn to the last full page.” Jaskier said quietly.

On the last page, a delicate envelope had been stuck in, the flap open. The letters OPEN ME were stuck above it. Geralt very carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

_Geralt._

_Every moment with you has been a gift. June 10th is the most important day of the year for me, because it’s the day my best life began. You know my childhood was rough, I don’t need to go into that here. My life had been somewhat lonely and unsatisfying up until that fateful day. A man stole my guitar, and you chased them down and took it back. You returned my guitar to me._

_Little did I know, you would take my heart instead._

_You are my best friend and the most important person in my life. I know I already take up so much space in your life. Getting to see the dates you’d written down in your diary last year proved that to me. But I’d like to take up the most important space. If you’ll have me. I’d love to embark on a new chapter of our journey._

_I love you, Geralt._

Geralt progressively read the letter, and his eyes widened, and a blush rose to his cheeks. Then, rereading the last four words, he smiled softly. He knew what he wanted to do.

“Let me get my book. I need to add something in.” Without waiting for a response, he walked to his room, took out his pocket diary and pen, and brought it back to the counter, sitting down in his stool. He avoided looking at Jaskier as he flicked to the date he needed, wanting to make it through his plan before he looked, knowing Jaskier was probably very confused.

“I should have written this down last year, but I didn’t want to risk someone else reading it. It was too important to write in my book, until the time was right. Which is now.”

_June 11th._

_The day I woke up with Jaskier in my arms._

_The day I realised I was in love with Jaskier._

He turned back one page to add something else.

_June 10th._

_The day I met Jaskier._

_The day I told Jaskier I love him._ He turned back to June 11th, and turned the book around for Jaskier to read. His eyes widened, and tears came to his eyes. Geralt flicked back to June 10th, and Jaskier smiled even as his eyes began to fill with more tears. Geralt smiled back. “I love you, Jask.”

“I love you too.” Jaskier stood up from where he had been leaning against the counter as Geralt stood up and rounded it to get to Jaskier, pulling him against his chest.

After a time, Jaskier pulled away, wiping the tears away and smiling like Geralt had never seen him smile before. Geralt gently wiped the remaining tears away, and caressed his cheek. His skin was so soft. Jaskier brought his hand up and softly trailed his fingers along Geralt’s cheekbone, the other curling around Geralt’s waist, pressed against the middle of his back. Jaskier’s fingers trailed along his cheekbone and slowly carded through Geralt’s hair, the intimacy of the gesture making Geralt’s toes curl in warmth. He slowly leaned in, and Jaskier met him halfway.

Jaskier’s lips were gentle and soft. It was a sweet kiss, slow, warm, and deep in feeling. They both gripped each other tighter, pulled each other closer. When they eventually pulled away for air, they were both smiling.

Together, they made many new dates.

Their first time having sex - that morning. They didn’t bother making breakfast. Instead they eagerly stumbled to Jaskier’s bed, unable to keep their hands off each other. It was sensual and intimate. The _noises_ Jaskier made. Geralt couldn’t get enough. Being in and around Jaskier was overwhelming in the best way.

Their first date - June 11th. They got dinner together the next day, knowing that soon Ciri would be back from Yenn’s and they would be back to their usual domesticated lives. It was easy to be with Jaskier, to date Jaskier. It was like all their other times eating together, just with being able to hold Jaskier’s hand, or see his soft, fond smile across the table. Geralt already felt sure that this was going to work. They could make it work.

The day they agreed to buy a home together. January 1st, as they lay in bed talking about the idiocy of New Years resolutions, and discussing their hopes for the year instead. Jaskier quietly said he hoped they’d get a house together, as a couple, not just live in an apartment with their own separate rooms that were pointless, as they just slept in Jaskier’s room instead, had done since that first evening. Geralt smiled fondly and agreed.

The day they moved into their home. March 18th. Vesemir and his brothers came to help, hiring out a truck. It was a messy day, full of stubbed toes and near-accidents. But as they stood in their very own three bedroom home, Ciri playing with her toys on the floor of her room, Jaskier hugging him from behind, Geralt was sure this was one of his happiest days.

The day he asked Jaskier to marry him. 

May 31st, over a year after they moved in together. Geralt had agonised over the choice of ring, and how he was going to do it. He thought it might be nice to do it on June 10th, but that date had enough memories. He wanted this memory to have a whole day to itself. Ciri was away with Yenn. When he asked Yenn for this specific day and told her why, she’d smiled and said “go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He’d asked for Ciri’s permission to do this, and she had eagerly said yes. Considering they had lived together her whole life, and were dating since before Ciri was old enough to form memories, Ciri was adamant she already Jaskier was already her dad. She was only two, but her permission was important.

So on May 31st, he made Jaskier breakfast. They went to an art exhibit Jaskier had been talking about for months. They had dinner at a lovely restaurant Geralt had to book a month beforehand. Jaskier hadn’t suspected anything odd, just thinking Geralt was giving him a nice treat, like he always did. 

He drove them home, Jaskier chattering away as per usual, and tried not to let his nerves affect his demeanour. When they got home, he told Jaskier to go into the kitchen. On the countertop was the scrapbook.

Jaskier looked at Geralt, puzzled. “What-“

“Open it. Turn to the last full page.”

Jaskier turned back to the book. Taped to the last full page was a new envelope, with stickers that said OPEN ME above it. In the envelope was a note.

_Jaskier._

_I’m terrible with words. I always have been. But I’m good with dates and numbers. I met you on June 10th, almost eight years ago now. I saved your guitar. I’m so glad I did. I didn’t give a shit about music until that night, when I heard you sing._

_We lived in our first apartment together over a year later, August 23rd. I used to hate the constant noise. Now something feels off when everything is quiet._

_June 11th, 2,558 days after we met, I woke up with you in my arms and realised I wanted to do that as much as humanly possible._

_Last year, June 10th, 2,992 days after we met, we started our new chapter.This book is filled with photos from that new adventure. It’s been my favourite chapter so far. Every day has been better than the last. I love you more and more each day._

_And today, I ask you to embark on the next leg of our journey together. You mean the world to me. I want to write today’s date down as the day you say yes. May 31st._

_I love you. Marry me, Jask._

When Jaskier turned around, tears in his eyes, Geralt was kneeling with a box in hand. He gasped and cried harder, smiling the entire time.

“Yes, love, yes, absolutely.” He bent down and kissed Geralt deeply, both of them smiling and crying.

“Here, let me put it on you.” He slid the ring carefully onto Jaskier’s finger.

They had sex on the kitchen floor as well as in their bed that night.

Later as they lay in bed, limbs entangled, Jaskier’s head pillowed on his chest, Jaskier spoke softly.

“Why May 31st?” He could hear the unspoken words. Why not June 10th?

“The day you agreed to marry me deserved its own day. I didn’t want to share it with anything else.” Geralt carded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair as he looked down at him, lying on his chest. “You’re too important for that.”

Jaskier smiled, and lifted himself up to kiss Geralt, deep and slow. Then he pulled back, smiling. “Then we’ll have to pick a good date for the wedding. What season?”

Geralt smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I imagine you’d have more of a preference than I do.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow in return. “Are you calling me fussy, Geralt?”

Geralt snorted. “Yes.”

Jaskier gasped dramatically. “My own fiancée calling me fussy, the nerve!”

Geralt blushed, his chest tightening with emotion. “Fiancée. I like that.”

Jaskier smiled. “Me too.” He kissed Geralt’s sternum and then laid down again, gently stroking Geralt’s side.

“Ooo, a spring wedding sounds like a splendid idea. Imagine Ciri as our flower girl! Oh Geralt, that has to happen. She’d be such a vision in a dress, walking down the aisle with a little flower basket! Then we could have it outdoors, too, surrounded by flowers and trees. Oh but it could rain, that would be a disaster. Maybe not outdoors. Ooo, how about...”

Geralt smiled, slowly stroking Jaskier’s hair as he listened to Jaskier debate with himself about the best possible season for a wedding. 

He knew that whatever date they ended up picking, it would be the happiest date of his life.


End file.
